Second Wind: Use bonus action to regain 1d10 + (fighter level) hit
points, must take long or short rest to use again

Feat (L1 Bonus): Polearm Master

Action Surge: On your turn, you can take
one additional action on top of your regular action and a possible bonus
action. Once you use this feature, you must finish a short or long rest
before you can use it again.

Extra Attack (L5): Whenever you take the attack action, you get an
additional attack.

Background (Drifter)
Skills: Insight, Survival
Tools: Dice set, Thieves' Tools
Feature: You know how to take advantage of the loopholes in society.
You can always find the kind of place you are looking for in a settlement or city (if it exists), and you can usually scrounge food, lodging and transportation free of charge (or by bartering a small
service) although it is often of dubious quality.

Appearance

Neither tall nor short, the solidly built dwarf before you stands with an easy competence evident in his bearing. His heavy arms and shoulders look like they can wield the large, long-hafted axe slung across his back with deadly ease, and the knuckles on his massive hands are thick with scar tissue. His head is bald - shaven fresh each morning - making him look older than his relatively youthful four and a half decades. The thick, intricately plaited beard is a dirty blond or light brown, depending on how the sun catches it and how recently he has bathed, hanging level with his waist. His deep set eyes are a blue so light they glimmer like ice under his brows. You could almost describe him as fierce, were it not for the ingenious gap-toothed grin that splits his face with reassuring regularity.

Apart from the well-worn but deadly looking axe, he wears a plain but serviceable handaxe on his hip, a heavy looking broad-bladed dagger near his intricately worked belt buckle, and a short knife at the small of his back. Beneath a cracked leather surcoat worked with dinted tooled plates and studs of bronze, he wears a suit of browned iron chain mail. Heavy, coarsely woven pants of that might have once been dark green are tucked into heavier, hobnailed brown boots that have certainly seen better days. The sleeves of the tunic that peek from beneath his muddy tunic are a faded black, though they leave his thick arms bare. Over one shoulder he wears a ragged cloak of faded red, the edges worked with unraveling black thread.

Yorek is gruff but personable, given to treating even complete strangers with an easy familiarity that can sometimes be construed as inappropriate. In most matters he is both practical and guileless, though he has a tendency to tell stories of rather dubious veracity. Quite proud of his dwarven heritage (and his various dwarven tolerances) despite his professed disgust with dwarven sensibilities, he keeps his beard well groomed, his weapons in good repair, and his stomach full on whatever grub he happens to find. However, he lacks the strict orderliness and adherence to tradition of most dwarves, possessed of a far more free-spirited nature and prone to living on the edges of society making his way in the grey areas between thievery and actual steady work.

To many he seems to be a rather oblivious dwarf concerned with simple pleasures, but behind his broad face and easy smile there is a keen mind, capable of surprising insight and ingenuity. Even his bluff exterior and improbable storytelling are somewhat misleading; he is a dwarf who has seen much of life and come away with scars that run deeper than the surface of his skin. Feeling like an outsider even among his own people, he is a wanderer that tells himself he'd like to settle down, a warrior that pretends he'd rather be a father. Although he dreams of a different life, he makes no effort to move in that direction which in itself speaks quite clearly where his heart lies.

Background and other notes

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How many deaths shall serve to break at last
This heritage which wraps me in the grey
Apparel of ghosts?